Thanks for noticing, Boss
by SA3466996
Summary: Gibbs reads the lists Tony wrote in Anthony's Weakness. Anthony makes a decision that has a profound effect on his working relationship with Gibbs. Set during Bounce. Gibbs/DiNozzo/Abby friendship. Sequel to Anthony's Weakness.
1. Searching for cookies

**Thanks for noticing, Boss**

**Summary:** Gibbs finally reads the lists that Tony made in Anthony's Weakness. In the meantime, Anthony draws strength and makes a decision that has a profound effect on his working relationship with Gibbs. Takes place in the S6 timeline post 'Deliverance' up to and throughout 'Bounce'. Lots of introspective thought, angst and missing scenes. Gibbs/Tony friendship, together with a heavy dose of Abby/Tony friendship too.

**Spoilers:** 'Deliverance', 'Bounce' and 'South by South West'. Brief references to 'Singled Out', 'Twisted Sister', 'Judgement Day' and 'Broken Bird'.

**Disclaimer:** NCIS characters belong to Bellisario, CBS and Paramount. No copyright infringement intended.

**A/N** - As this is the sequel to Anthony's Weakness, I would encourage you to read that story first. This one draws heavily on several loose threads from that story and won't make a lot of sense on its own. I also made an assumption that Tony knows about both the 'narcissistic' and 'attitude adjustment' comments that Gibbs made about him early on in S6. Huge thanks to CSIGeekFan, Will and Obsessed Pam for the Beta and read throughs.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Searching for cookies**

"DiNozzo."

"What?!"

"Campfire."

* * *

_Several days earlier._

"So what sounds good?"

"Don't mind, Abs. You choose."

"Seriously?"

"Sure."

"And you won't complain, or huff or roll your eyes at whatever I choose?" Abby called through the open door as Tony made fresh mugs of tea for the pair.

"Abby, first off they're my DVDs and I don't own anything I would _ever_ roll my eyes at. Second, it depends what you mean by huff."

Abby raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I saw that eyebrow, Abs," Tony called out from the kitchen. "I felt that eyebrow."

Abby folded her arms silently.

"Okay, maybe I have a few – especially the huffing variety," Tony relented. "You can tell that eyebrow to stand down now."

Abby smiled safe in the knowledge that Tony knew he was beaten. "Tony, you have more than a few."

"Well, I'm sorry for being a guy. I'm sure McGee has his fair share too."

"He does now."

"Abs!"

Abby smirked and sidled from the front room to the entrance to the kitchen. Leaning against the door frame she watched her friend grab the sugar from the cupboard. "Thanks, Tony."

"What for?"

"Letting me in." Abby registered the confused look as Tony spun around to face her.

"Abs, you're welcome any time. You know that."

"I know, I just... you've been acting weird recently."

"Weird?"

"Weird." Abby sighed as Tony turned away from her and began to poor the tea into the two mugs on the work top.

"Good or bad?"

Tony's voice was low almost inaudible.

"Bad."

"Oh." Tony thrust a mug into her hands. "Chosen your DVD yet?"

"Tony," Abby sighed at lack lustre deflection. She obliged and let him spin her around as he hustled her in the direction of the front room.

"You want cookies?" Tony called as he searched in the kitchen cupboard. "Think I've got some plain or chocolate ones somewhere in here."

"Don't mind," she replied as she sat down on the sofa. This was obviously going to take a while if he was pretending to look for cookies so she might as well get comfortable. Abby took a sip of tea–apparently Tony had run out of coffee and hadn't had chance to go shopping for groceries–and then placed the mug on the coffee table next to the sofa, carefully avoiding the red patterned tie that Tony had neglected to put away.

"Hey, Tony, isn't this Frank... what are you doing with Mike's tie?"

"It's not Mike's. It's Gibbs's."

"Gibbs left his tie here? Wanna tell me something?" Abby raised both eyebrows, "You and Gibbs aren't... you know?"

"Abs, he can barely stand to look at me." Tony sighed exasperatedly, slamming one cupboard door and forcefully opening another, "I'm really not in the mood."

"Sorry, Tony." Sensing the tension from inside the kitchen begin to fade, Abby ventured another try. "So..."

"What?"

"The tie..."

Tony stopped pretending to look for cookies. "Franks gave it to me before he left. I figured he'd tell Gibbs at some point that I had it - thought I'd see whether he'd come and ask for it back."

"He didn't?"

The search for cookies resumed. "Nope."

Abby retrieved her mug and took another sip of tea, before replacing it on the coffee table, cursing as the liquid sloshed over the top of the mug, onto both the table and Gibbs's tie. She brushed away the wet tea quickly, hoping Tony wouldn't notice, and in her haste knocked the tie onto the floor.

"Well, maybe Franks didn't get chance to tell him. You could take it to him."

"Don't think that's a good idea, Abs. _Really_ don't think Gibbs wants me dropping in unannounced. He tolerates me Abby. He doesn't need me; not anymore. First sign of trouble and he runs to Franks."

"That's crap, Tony." The guy was obviously in self pity mode and thinking of leaving. Abby had dealt with a quite a few of Tony's down moods in the past and knew she had to nip this in the bud - quickly; for all their sakes. They'd only been a team again for a few months and she couldn't bear to lose any of them again. Abby bent down to pick up the tie and as it whipped around the table leg she noticed a piece of paper jutting out from under the couch. Picking up the paper, Abby turned it over and studied the writing on the other side. Tony's handwriting. She knew the scrawl anywhere. Three words in total. Under the double underlined heading of Anthony's Weakness was one final solitary word.

_**Tony**_

This was worse than she had thought. "Tony," she stood up and held the paper aloft. "What's this?"

Tony paused in his cookie searching duties and turned around to look at Abby from his vantage point in the kitchen. Stopping dead in his tracks when he saw the piece of paper she held in her hands, he swallowed hard. Memories of that night came flooding back into his mind. How he'd sat on his sofa, ripping his, or Tony's, psyche to pieces. How he'd lain himself bare, trying to understand the difference between Tony and Anthony; trying to realise what the hell had gone wrong since he'd come back from the Sea Hawk. Why, where and when his relationships with each member of the team, but particularly his relationship with Gibbs had gone so unbelievably FUBAR.

"It's nothing, Abs."

"This is not _nothing_, Tony." Abby sounded shocked. "What did you do? You didn't do anything stupid did you?"

"Geez, Abs. No... of course not." He walked up to her and quickly placed his arms around her, holding her tight. "God, No."

Abby was trembling, from fear or anger he wasn't sure. "Sit down, Abby. Drink your tea."

"Got anything stronger?" Abby asked as she placed the note on the coffee table and slowly sat back down on the sofa.

Tony smiled as the colour began to return to Abby's cheeks; not that her cheeks were really pinkish at all - the black eyeliner emphasising her paleness - but he always noticed subtle changes in her colour. He'd never say anything though. "I've got some Lagavulin that Ducky brought back from his vacation in Scotland last year. It's good. Better than that Bourbon Gibbs keeps in his basement. Wanna try it?"

"Yeah, think I do."

Tony gingerly placed an arm on Abby's shoulder and gave a small squeeze before walking over to the shelf next to his DVD collection, taking the stopper off the decanter and pouring Abby a generous measure of whiskey. He sighed imperceptibly, walked back and placed the glass firmly into Abby's hands.

"You're not joining me?" she prompted, accepting the drink with both hands. "That's not like you."

"Nah," Tony smiled weakly. "Vance has got me _entertaining_ later this week. School night. Don't tell McGee. Can't do two consecutive nights."

Abby nodded. "I heard our counterparts from Japan were over. I've got to give them a tour of the lab."

"Lucky them."

Feigning hurt, Abby pressed further. "Still, _you're _passing on a glass of Scotch..."

"Whiskey," Tony corrected. "Well, according to Ducky it's whiskey, and he is Scottish."

"Passing on a glass of... _whiskey_. That's not like you," she said before taking a sip and gasping as she felt the fiery burn of the liquid as it slid down the back of her throat.

"Me," Tony scoffed. _How could anyone possibly know what 'he' was or wasn't like?_ Quickly switching his focus away from within, Tony stifled a laugh as Abby scrunched up her face and shook her head vigorously.

"Yeah. You. Said you'd been acting weird recently." Abby placed the glass on the coffee table, picked up the piece of paper and held it up for Tony to see. "Now tell me, Mister. What's going on?"

It seemed that Abby was not going to back down. "It's nothing, really. I..."

"I swear, Tony, if you say 'I'm fine', I will personally ensure that you won't be fine by morning."

"You wouldn't?"

Abby's heavily blackened eyebrow inched skywards.

"You would too. Wouldn't you?"

"Uh huh."

"Abby, that's cold."

"Your choice, Tony. Tell me what's wrong, or I go straight to Gibbs."

Tony stared at Abby for what felt like an eternity but in reality was only five seconds, if that. She stood her ground.

"Maybe I can help?"

Tony let out a resigned sigh and sat down on the sofa next to Abby. "I wasn't going to say I was fine."

Abby turned to face him.

"I've been back a while now."

"You never should have gone away, Tony."

"Yeah I should. Vance was right."

"Crap."

"No, it's not. Sure, maybe he could have done it differently. I mean, one minute we're all together at Jenny's funeral, the next we're in different continents; different time zones. That wasn't right. But really, when you think about it—in the grand scheme of things—we're just pawns; resources. Ziva was needed in Israel. McGee was needed in cyber crimes..."

"What were you needed for, Tony? Why the Regan? Why the Sea Hawk? Why afloat? Why didn't he transfer you to another team - here in D.C?"

"Have to ask the toothpick that one?"

"Theorise, Tony. I'm asking you."

Tony smiled weakly. "I was needed on the Regan so Vance could point score."

"Gibbs needed to be taken down."

"Yeah," Tony nodded. "Gibbs needed to be taken down." Tony had needed it too. He knew his position afloat had had nothing to do with finding the leak. It had been made out to be a promotion; a long overdue posting. In some respects Vance had been right. He should have done it years ago to further his career, but not everyone wanted to become Director. For some, there were more important things in life than being at the top of the food chain. Running an agency; not knowing who was going to stab you in the back next was not Tony's idea of fun. For Tony, catching the bad guys, seeing justice done, working the front line, having friends you could trust - it was clichéd - but that was what mattered to Tony. Everything else was window dressing. "Vance knew what the confines of life afloat would be like for me. He knew I'd get bored; frustrated. And... he knew it would drive Gibbs mad." Tony turned to face Abby. "God, Abs, I was really desperate those last few weeks. I tried not to... I don't know how long..."

"You're back now."

"Yeah. But I'm not really back, am I?" His mouth rambled on when he took in Abby's confused look. "Vance was running an op to find the mole and sidelined me. He kept Gibbs in the dark and purposely kept me, and only me, out of his operation." Tony paused. "Gibbs has been sidelining me too. He didn't trust me with the Domino op. Oh yeah, he used me. Used Ziva. Used us all. Still uses us to get the job done now. That's how it should be. But I don't _think_ he trusts me. Not like he used to. Like he trusted you with Domino."

"He was just trying to protect you, Tony. Protect all of you."

The knuckles on Tony's right fist whitened as he fought to control the anger within him. "I thought we'd gotten over all that crap of 'protecting us' and 'keeping us in the dark for our own good' when he went haring off after Maddie last year. Seems _some_ of us haven't quite gotten over that." The words flew out of Tony's mouth with no chance of censorship; the opposing wall taking the full force of his tirade. "It's okay for _him_ to have _our_ backs, but not for _us_ to have _his_. Seems to trust Franks a hell of a lot more with his back than he trusts me. But then, I suppose a lot has happened since Maddie. I mean, no wonder he doesn't trust me when I got his ex-girlfriend killed..."

Tony's eyes snapped shut at the blow to back of his head and he swallowed hard before slowly licking his lips and turning to face Abby.

"Thanks."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know. It's just hard, you know." The downward spiral of self pity was all too evident in Tony's voice. This wasn't something he shared often. Abby ran a hand up Tony's bicep letting it rest on his shoulder.

"I worked with Lee. She was part of _my_ team when Gibbs was in Mexico. Maybe I could have foreseen..."

"No, Tony. You're not going to blame yourself for Lee's mistakes."

Tony eyed the glass of whiskey on the coffee table. "Gibbs is doing enough of that for everyone put together."

Abby let her hand fall away from Tony's shoulder. There was a long silence before Tony spoke – to no one in particular.

"I should have been there for her."

"Lee made her choice. She could have asked for help."

"She was protecting the person she loved," Tony whispered absently. "Who was supposed to protect her, Abby?"

"So Vance was right to send you away?"

"Yeah. Toothpick got it right. Needed time to get my head screwed on right."

"Bastard didn't need to keep you floating for four months."

"Nope. A month was more than enough to sober my thoughts."

"Does Vance need to send you away again?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know. I don't want to go, but I don't think Gibbs wants me to stay."

"Tony, Gibbs is a stubborn ass but you're his right hand man. Of course he wants you to stay."

"Abby, _you_ want me to stay. I'm not so sure about Gibbs - and as you well know, what Gibbs wants he usually gets. I've got to keep a clear head and stay out of trouble."

"That why you're not drinking much now." Abby knew she'd hit a raw nerve when Tony looked away. "So how does this," she said holding aloft the piece of paper, "fit into your master plan then?"

"No plan, Abby. Don't even know what I was thinking when I did that."

"Sure you do."

Tony exhaled deeply. "Why are you always right?"

"I'm Abigail Sciuto, forensic specialist extraordinaire and friend of very special agent Tony DiNozzo. I'm always right. Now spill."

_TBC..._

* * *


	2. Little Miss Gibbs

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. More Abby/Tony interaction in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Little Miss Gibbs**

* * *

Tony leaned back against the leather sofa and stared into the distance before glancing over at Abby. "Remember when Gibbs sent McGee into the prison to get a confession. It got me thinking."

"Why he picked Tim to go in there rather than you, or Ziva?"

"Nope." Tony leaned forward bushing away some imaginary dirt from the right knee of his pants. "I know why Tim went in. He got a good result. Even if it wasn't the one we expected. He did good in there."

"I know. Tim got tough. I liked it. I mean, I knew it was there, inside him but he doesn't show it often."

"Yeah. Prison changes a McGee. That sounds familiar..."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. Gibbs is a great believer in sink or swim challenges."

"That's dangerous."

"Not really. He never places a bet he knows he won't win."

"So he never would have sent McGee in if he didn't think he could do it"

"Swim and win."

"Sneaky."

"Ever known Gibbs not to be?" Tony questioned. "McGee stepped up to the plate, held his own in that prison and got the job done. Wasn't easy. Like you said... McGeek? Tough? Not the first thing that springs to mind when you take a look at the guy. Got me thinking about what people see when they look at me."

"They see Tony."

"Yeah, Abs. They see Tony. Tony and all his flaws and weaknesses."

"What about your strengths."

"Weaknesses are more obvious." Tony snorted. "Yeah, I really set myself up with that one."

"Wha..."

"I was teasing McGee. Told him 'people can be loved as much for their weaknesses as they are for their strengths'. Gibbs walked in on us and gave one of his usual well placed comments." Tony mimicked Gibbs's voice. "_Well then DiNozzo, you must be one very well loved man._"

Abby laughed. "It was a joke, Tony."

"Yeah. It was stupid really. Shouldn't have let it bother me."

Tony went quiet. He was shutting down, and Abby immediately regretted laughing earlier. "Go on, Tony. Please." She saw the uncertainty in his eyes and reached out a hand, linking her fingers in his. It only took a few seconds before Tony visibly relaxed and withdrew his hand from her grasp.

"I wrote these lists of all my weaknesses. The weaknesses I thought other people see in me, and the weaknesses I see in myself."

"That's... um... very perceptive... self-aware of you, Tony."

"Did I mention that both Ducky and Gibbs think I'm narcissistic?"

"No."

"What do you think?"

"You want the truth?

Tony nodded.

"Maybe. A little."

Tony nodded again. "Think you're right, Abs."

"I want to see your list."

"Well that's a new one." Tony was deflecting again. "Normally they ask to see my..." Tony's head thrust forward as Abby's hand connected once again with the back of it. "Hey!"

"Well Gibbs isn't here, so..."

"Gibbs... hasn't done that for a long time."

"Well he should," Abby stated. "Think of me as his substitute." She held out her hand to Tony. "Lists," she mimicked in her best Gibbs-like voice. "Today, DiNozzo!"

"They're at work," he clipped.

Little Miss Gibbs fixed him with her best Gibbsian stare.

"Suppose I can print a copy off from my laptop," he stated as he prised himself up from the sofa. "Ya know, Abs, you're not bad at..."

Little Miss Gibbs rose from the sofa, licked the corner of her lips, folded her arms and glared at him.

"Okay, enough already. I'm going."

Abby waited until Tony had turned and was halfway out of the door in search of his laptop before she grinned slyly. "Atta boy," she muttered quietly underneath her breath when she knew Tony wouldn't be able to hear her.

Abby spun on her boots and grimaced as they squeaked on the wooden floorboards. Crouching down she undid the three buckles on the side of one boot and then undid the long zip that ran the length of her left boot. Inching her foot out she let the black leather boot drop to the floor and wiggled her toes. _One gone. _

As she straightened up, Abby heard the low chortle of an ink jet printer from the spare room. The spare room had doubled as Tony's makeshift home office when he was Boss several years ago. She knew it more personally as the place she'd crashed several times – usually after one of them had had one drink too many. Sometimes Tony would take her back to his apartment; watch her, keep her safe until the hangover woke her the next day. Other times she'd make sure he was okay, staying until he'd slept it off and sobered up the following morning. It didn't happen often, but they both understood each other's need to escape; to be free. They never apologised to each other either; the usual morning exchange between sufferer and carer being a mumbled '_thanks_' and a nod in return.

She'd stayed in the spare room a few times whilst Tony had been afloat. Between Gibbs and herself they'd gone once every couple of weeks to check the apartment, clear the junk mail, make sure there were no outstanding bills that needed attention. She'd also gone to the apartment on a few occasions when she felt the need to be close to Tony; when she thought she was beginning to forget what he smelt like and when she thought he was being forgotten.

It was Locard's exchange principle – 'Every contact leaves a trace'. By walking around his apartment, touching his sofa, his clothes, his coffee mug and then going back to her lab and sitting at her desk it was like she had brought a little bit of Tony with her. She had, in theory. She'd missed hearing his incessant chatter about anything and everything; his jokes, the teasing and attention seeking. She'd missed being able to hug him and tell him that he wasn't to blame; that all he had to do was talk to her and she'd try to help. She'd missed telling him that he had friends, he wasn't alone and that they weren't giving up on him. Abby'd also known that however much Tony had proclaimed he'd been fine and had loads of new buddies, that being on a ship of five thousand hadn't meant that he wasn't alone. Tony had admitted almost as much just a few moments earlier. She hadn't wanted him to be alone.

She didn't want him to be alone now.

Bending down to undo the buckles and zip on her right boot, Abby slipped her foot out. Her white over-the-knee socks were stained dark grey black at the toes and heel from where the sweat from her feet had mixed with the black dye in the leather. She slipped both socks off and padded barefoot on the floor before looking around Tony's front room. The CD and DVD collection were still prominently visible, as was the huge plasma TV screen in the centre of one wall. The coffee table - adorned with Gibbs's red tie she'd picked up from off the floor and only half touched glass of Lagavulin - stood next to the large leather sofa.

It was dark in the apartment and Abby paced towards the window intending to close the blinds and turn on the light. Just as she reached the window she realised she still had the piece of paper in her right hand. She glanced down and stared at the words. _Anthony_. He'd called himself Anthony. He rarely did that, and if he'd gone to print the lists from his laptop then what was the piece of paper she held in her hand all about? It was hardly a list with just one item.

The sound of Tony clearing his throat drew Abby from her thoughts. She spun around to see Tony standing in the doorway. By the look on his face, Abby knew he'd been watching her for a while.

"Promise me something, Abby."

"Of course, Tony."

"No, I mean it, Abs. You have to promise that you..."

"I won't tell anyone, Tony."

"I know. No, it's not that. Just... never mind. Read it."

He thrust the page towards her.

"Tony!"

"Read it, Abby. Tell me what you think."

Abby took the sheet of paper from Tony's hands and immediately felt the chill as Tony looked away and then turned away from her. Abby began to read.

.

_**Tony's Weaknesses**_

.

_**What I think other people think of me/ my weaknesses **_

.

_**Annoying/ Irritating**_

_**Inconsiderate/ Selfish**_

_**Need to be noticed/ constantly seeking approval, attention and recognition**_

_**Constant need to please the boss**_

_**Immature/ childish/ silly**_

_**Yes man**_

_**Show off/ always has to be the centre of attention/ has to be the best**_

_**Know it all**_

_**Sexist**_

_**Blame others when it's my fault**_

_**Jealous of other peoples success**_

_**Talk a lot/ don't know when to shut up**_

_**Short attention span/ gets bored easily**_

_**Get people killed**_

_**Shallow**_

.

.

_**What I think my weaknesses are**_

.

_**What the others think plus the following:-**_

.

_**I blame myself for things that are not my fault**_

_**I care and I pretend not to care**_

_**I don't ask for help**_

_**I assume too much and I over compensate**_

_**I'm afraid of being alone**_

.

Tony still wasn't looking at her. Abby paced around the room and reread the lists until she took a seat on the sofa.

"You done yet?" Tony asked.

"Uh huh."

"So, what d'ya think? C'mon Abby. Might as well let me have it."

"Well... it's..."

"What?"

"You wrote this?"

"Knew this was a mistake," Tony made an attempt to snatch the paper from Abby.

"No. Tony. Don't. I didn't mean... look, it's just. I didn't expect... "

"Honesty."

"Brutal honesty."

"So what do you think?"

"Well, I think it's what you think people think of you. I think."

"Knew it. It's bad isn't it?"

"Tony, it doesn't mean that's what they actually think."

"Abs!"

"Okay, I'm not going to patronise you. It's pretty accurate."

"Great."

"No, Tony. I mean _all_ of it. The Director's death wasn't your fault. You don't need to pretend. Ask me; I want to help. You are not alone."

"That reminds me of a movie. Or was it a TV show? TV. Definitely."

"Tony!"Abby admonished. "I'm being serious."

Abby watched as Tony stilled, briefly closed his eyes and nodded once.

"I take it you've not talked to Gibbs about this."

Tony took a seat next to her on the leather sofa. "Thought about it... was going to, but no."

"Why didn't you talk to Gibbs?" Abby asked.

"I was all ready to but he made some joke about firing me. We were going to talk about it later but we caught P.O. Lim's case and..."

"Ducky."

"Ducky." Tony nodded. "How could I talk to him after that? I didn't bring it up later on and neither did Gibbs. Boss didn't wanna know... and who could blame him. Hell, Gibbs, Ducky, well... everyone had more important things to worry about." He didn't really want to bring up his Uncle Paddington. He could tell Ziva and McGee hadn't believed his explanation when he'd asked Gibbs for some personal time. Gibbs himself hadn't said much, but had quietly agreed to his request – for which Tony was grateful.

"You know he'd never fire you don't you?"

The squeeze to his arm and restrictive hug brought Tony back to the present. "Abs, I'm not indispensible."

"He fought to get you back."

"I know."

"Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Yeah, he got me back so he could do the honours instead of Vance."

"Tony!"

"Sorry. I'm just being stupid. That's me - stupid Tony, goofball Tony; the idiot who doesn't know when to shut up; who isn't allowed to have feelings. The one who's supposed to function twenty-four-seven without question; without acknowledgement. Well news flash Abby... it's crap."

"We just thought you were kind of private, you know. Like Gibbs."

"I'm not Gibbs, remember."

"No you're not. You're DiNozzo."

Abby shuffled closer and resting her head on Tony's chest nestling beneath his chin. Tony welcomed the warmth and comfort and placed his arm around Abby, holding her close.

"I don't know what to do, Abs."

"Do nothing. Just be yourself."

"Yeah, and look where that's got me."

"No... Tony," Abby prised herself away from Tony's chest and looked him square in the eyes. "Anthony," she corrected. "Just be you."

Tony took in her words and faltered before replying despairingly, "Not sure I know how."

_TBC..._

_

* * *

_


	3. Adjusting his attitude

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy the chapter. SA

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Adjusting his attitude**

* * *

Tony stood in his kitchen, washing the remaining dirty dishes, pots and pans he and Abby had used earlier that evening. He hated cleaning up but his mind was running riot, twisting every thought he had, exaggerating every little detail. Unable to focus, Tony had needed something to bring his thoughts in line; something routine. In other circumstances he would have gone for a run, but the heavens had opened a little over thirty minutes ago and there was no sign of it stopping. Tony wasn't _that_ stupid.

Cleaning wasn't a patch on running but it did the job. He used to have a maid, but when he'd been afloat there'd been no need to keep Jess on. She'd been pissed at that but he'd been pissed too. A litany of expletives had swathed his apartment a deep blue that night. Since coming back to D.C., he'd done his own cleaning; literally and figuratively.

It had started with Jeanne. That had been over two years ago. He'd had to act the part. Tony DiNardo. Professor DiNardo. It wasn't hard. Before he knew it he was in too deep. They'd used her place.

_Used._

It sounded so clinical now. They'd never _used_ his place. Yet Tony DiNardo had cleaned and maintained his apartment-with a little help from Jess-to the standards he had thought she expected of him. Jeanne wouldn't have cared of course. She'd have loved him whatever the state of his apartment.

Except _that_ wasn't true.

She'd loved DiNardo. Not DiNozzo. They weren't the same. DiNardo hadn't lied. DiNardo _was_ the lie; DiNozzo the liar.

Playing a role, a part; people noticed that. Jeanne had noticed. Jenny had noticed. Sometimes the results were unbeatable and he couldn't wish for more. But there were other times when it all just went to hell, and quick thinking or reflexes had been the only thing standing between him, the edge of a steel blade and becoming the next 'special' on an 'all you can eat buffet' for bugs.

All his life he'd wanted people to notice him. He tried everything to get people to notice him. At home he'd tried being studious, and when that hadn't worked he'd tried rebelling. That hadn't had much of an effect either. At the military academy it was the complete opposite; impossible not to be noticed. He'd learnt fairly quickly what types of actions got what corresponding types and degrees of notice from others. By the time he'd graduated from the academy, Tony could slip into a role and play his part like any pro. He could manipulate most situations to his advantage. He hadn't always realised he was doing it – until he got to college.

College was different. He'd had a great time at Ohio State. There, he'd had the type and level of attention he'd only dreamed of before. Sports, shots and signorinas. _Oh yeah._ They noticed him. Everyone wanted a piece of him. Of course, as soon as he blew his leg, it ended. They didn't even know they were doing it. Coach and the Physio helped him get back on his feet of course, but they and he knew he'd never turn pro.

It was just little things at first. Coach started making excuses for him, saying he needed more time for his leg to heal. He took more physical therapy sessions but by the time he was back to his previous fitness levels, the season was over and so was college. Basically, he was a piece of meat that had passed its use by date. So Tony graduated, stayed in touch with some of his closest frat brothers but his chance at the big time had gone. There had been no guarantees that he'd have made it in any case. At least that was what Coach had said during one of his 'pep talks' just before Tony left.

That 'chat' had been the final straw.

The fact that Coach had thought he _wouldn't make it_. It didn't matter that he was probably right – on the _pro_ terms at least. The anger he'd felt at hearing the truth—that Coach thought he wasn't worth pushing—made him fight. All the more determined to prove him wrong. Prove wrong _anyone_ who said he wouldn't make it; wasn't good enough. Two weeks into his posting as a rookie in Peoria, some of the guys invited him to play. He hadn't played since college but he became an instant hit with his team mates. They noticed him.

Tony got all the recognition he craved in Peoria, then Philly closely followed by Baltimore. Two years–give or take a month or two, a year to get into the job followed by a year to do it properly. A decent enough threshold; after which, he'd learned all he could, the boredom crept in and he began to get frustrated.

His captains didn't blame him. They noticed him. Pushed him further, gave him more - challenged him. He rose up the ranks and made detective. But there always came a point where his superiors—knowing they wouldn't be able to hold him back—just began to get bored with dealing with his frustrations and did the only thing they could do. They let him move on.

And that was the problem. They always noticed _him._ Tony. Anthony remained a closely guarded secret; his own doing of course. He'd created Tony, and that was who people noticed. That was what protected him. Anthony was invisible to the world. Anthony wanted to be noticed. Tony had proved over and over again that he could make it; Anthony hadn't. But in his haste to seek recognition, he'd left it too late. Gibbs was obviously bored with Tony if the sighs, comments and lack of engagement were anything to go by. DiNozzo knew the signs inside out and Gibbs was letting him make a move.

Therein lay the second problem. Washington D.C. had been good for him. He was into his eighth year of working at NCIS; working for Gibbs. Directors had come and gone – one in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Partners had also come and gone. Fellow agents had died, been promoted, resigned, retired and reassigned. But one thing had remained constant. With the exception of a small hiatus involving Mexico and four months stationed afloat, he'd had the same Boss for almost eight years. The same man... Gibbs. Right now, he didn't want to work for anyone else.

Tony shivered. The water in the sink was cold.

* * *

The following day passed quickly. Abby had shown their Japanese counterparts the whole of her lab, explaining in detail what all the different machines did. It was a slow day, forensically speaking with the team writing up case notes and checking evidence so she'd ended up with not too big a backlog of routine evidence to analyse. Gibbs had popped down with a Caf-Pow early afternoon but he'd disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived when he'd seen the crowd huddled around her and her hot stage microscope.

Tony hadn't been to see her at all during the day. She was okay about that, even though it was driving her crazy. She knew he was just trying to figure things out. He'd talk when he was ready. Abby just hoped it wouldn't take too long.

'_Just be you.'_ The last words Abby had said to Tony the previous evening before delivering her metaphorical head slap. She'd drawn him in, coaxed him out, let him have his moment of self pity and then 'Bam'.

'_Then learn, fast.'_

The easy challenge, reprimand, wake-up call; whatever it was had worked. The pained expression on Tony's face told her the blow had hit its mark. Moments later she'd left him, knowing he needed time to figure it out. She'd called when she'd got back to her apartment; partly to assure him that she was safe and hadn't been ravished by the cab driver, partly to check he was okay.

Now, a day later, she was on her way to dispense another wake-up call; one that might not be as easy to deliver - or as easy to forgive, if it all went south.

Gibbs was squinting, looking through the case file reports as she entered the squad room.

"Hey, Abs. You got something for me?"

She loved the way he smiled and called her Abs, but put that to the back of her mind before she bottled out and the pair were doomed. "Kind of."

"Abs."

There it was again. "Ziva, McGee?"

"Sent them home an hour ago. Tony's...?"

"Tony's babysitting our delegates from Tokyo tonight. Probably gone home to get changed."

"Hmm."

"You don't remember? Vance's orders."

Gibbs's eyes narrowed slightly. "He didn't tell me."

"Seems to be the new craze," Abby replied, her tone laced with contempt.

"Abby. Was there something you wanted?"

"You need to see this, Gibbs. He can't know you've seen it," she stated giving Gibbs the folded piece of paper that Tony had printed off from his laptop the previous evening.

Gibbs accepted the paper but neglected to open it. "Who can't, Abby?"

Abby folded her arms and looked away briefly before fixing Gibbs with an angry glare. She angled her head to the right. "You _know _who. Six foot something, brown hair, green eyes, answers to the name '_Hey_'. He's still got your tie too." When Gibbs didn't respond Abby angled her head to the left. "The one _Franks_ borrowed."

"Wondered where it'd got to. Tell him to bring it in."

"I'm not your lackey, Gibbs," Abby retaliated, unfolding her arms and planting her palms face down on the desk. "Neither is he. He wants... he's waiting for you to go to him."

"And why would I do that? I'm not that bothered about a tie, Abs."

"Gibbs – it's not the tie. DiNozzo's your right hand man." Abby drew herself up to her full height once again.

"Still is."

"Not from where I'm standing. You called_ Franks_. You didn't use Tony, your team. You didn't let him in. Like before. He thinks you don't trust him, Gibbs. Do you trust him? Perhaps you don't... anymore. You need to talk to him."

"DiNozzo's a big boy, Abby." Gibbs bristled at the sharp tone. "Best he handles it - whatever he thinks _it_ is – in his own way."

"Even if _handling it_ means Tony leaving NCIS?"

"DiNozzo isn't leaving."

"Really?" She mocked. "You should have heard him last night, Gibbs. Couple of weeks ago you said he needed to get an attitude adjustment. Well, he's getting one alright..."

"_I know_, Abby."

"Do you?" She huffed in suprise. "How would you know that, _Gibbs? _Talked to him lately? Been out for drinks recently? Spent more than two minutes talking about a case with him? Wait... no... that's what you've got Franks for."

"Careful," Gibbs warned.

"No, Gibbs. Read it." Abby gestured to the note in Gibbs's hand. With a last look of defiance, Abby turned and walked out of the squad room, down the stairs to her lab, where she sat at her desk and fumed. A few minutes later Abby rose from her chair, locked the door to her office and turned on the music. Head held in her hands, Abby slumped to the floor and allowed a single strangled sob to escape.

* * *

Tony stared at the fogged mirror in his bathroom. The condensation from the heat of the shower made it impossible for him to see his own reflection.

In one smooth action, he drew his hand across the mirror, wiping the foggy condensation away and looked at the face that stared back at him. As if he'd just experienced an epiphany, Tony knew instantly what he had to do. The half smile that greeted him was comforting and genuine. He hadn't seen one of those in a while.

Decision made, Tony fixed his hair and then re-fixed it before padding back to the bedroom and slipping into a crisp dark green, button down shirt, black pants and black leather shoes. He popped open the top button of his shirt and adjusted the collar before slipping on his wristwatch and making his way back to the bathroom to check his hair a final time. Smoothing down a stubborn tuft at the back and teasing a few strands of hair at the front, Tony smiled; finally satisfied with the result. _Tony _was going to go out in style.

_TBC..._

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** Gibbs is up next.


	4. Self preservation v collateral damage

**A/N:** My thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy the next chapter. We're currently at the night before Bounce. SA

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Self preservation v collateral damage**

* * *

Gibbs had finished up in the office and made his way home and down to the comfort of his basement, swapping his work clothes for jeans and a sweatshirt along the way. Reclining against the workbench, jar of Bourbon in one hand and the weight of what to do about his senior field agent in the other, Gibbs was—for a brief moment—unsure how to handle Tony's current attempt to 'fix things'.

He'd spent a while reading through Tony's lists back at the office. It wasn't the physicality of reading a few typed lines on a page that had taken much time, it was reading between the lines that took the effort.

It was the same with DiNozzo's reports. Clear, concise, simple but professional in execution; never wordy. DiNozzo didn't dally when describing his actions and the outcomes in his own reports and Gibbs had learned early on that not only did he have to watch out for what DiNozzo didn't _say_, but he had to watch out for what DiNozzo didn't _write_. There were numerous occasions Gibbs could remember where Tony had elected not to include small but nevertheless highly significant details. Details that threw a completely different light on the way a situation could be construed by those higher up the food chain. Sometimes Gibbs allowed the omissions to stand but not every time. Gibbs always knew, of course. He wrote the book on omitting small but highly significant details.

In fact, they were alike in that both of them had a way of being economical with the truth when it came to their private lives. Tony might have spouted a lot of crap about Monique, Jessica, Amber or whoever the hell was flavour of the week back when Kate was around, but recently there'd been none of that; or at least only half-hearted attempts at it. Gibbs knew he'd played on it specifically to annoy Kate back in the day, but it had tailed off when Gibbs had returned from Mexico. Since Jeanne Benoit, Gibbs hadn't heard Tony talk openly, to the rest of the team, about anyone close to him. In fact, McGee seemed to have taken DiNozzo's top spot on the 'player image projection' leader board; a fact that had not gone unnoticed by DiNozzo. _Was Tony maybe a little jealous of his Probie?_

Gibbs chuckled quietly to himself. DiNozzo kept his true private life very closely guarded. Allowing others to see only what _he_ wanted them to see, or what he thought the others needed to see - same as Gibbs. Whilst that economy and control was great for undercover work, it wasn't quite so great for lasting friendship or health. He knew from personal experience.

DiNozzo had employed that economy to full force when his car had been blown up during his undercover operation for Jen. During the customary debrief session they'd glossed over the incident in the hospital mortuary where he'd been slapped around and both Jeanne and DiNozzo had been held at gunpoint. DiNozzo had been high on adrenaline when he'd made it into the office but as the day wore on, he'd become more subdued and the tell tale signs of physical pain made Gibbs suspicious.

When Tony had finally submitted his report there was a brief mention of the incident; enough to satisfy the Director, but not Gibbs. Gibbs had taken him to one side and asked him if there was anything else that wasn't in the report that he should know about. Tony had said 'No' and assured Gibbs that everything was 'in order' and that he was 'more than fine'. Gibbs had raised his hand at that but stopped as Tony had genuinely flinched. The stubborn agent finally revealed that he'd been hit on the head with a gun butt, and although he'd lost consciousness for only a few seconds, Jeanne had already seen to him and that he really only had a mild headache, didn't have any blurred vision, he wasn't nauseous and hadn't vomited at all.

Gibbs had sent DiNozzo home with strict instructions not to come in the following day. Tony hadn't argued with him which Gibbs took as testament to the toll the past couple of weeks had taken on him. In fact he'd only sent DiNozzo home alone on the proviso that he called Ducky or himself immediately if he experienced any of the usual suspects. He added the customary threat that if he did experience any symptoms and _didn't_ call Ducky or himself then he needn't bother calling him ever again. Tony had smiled at Gibbs and muttered a 'Thanks, Boss' in return to the reassuringly familiar banter. It had always been so easy. They had always read each other well and understood each other's needs but now he really was unsure what to do and that worried him.

Damn Vance for sending his team away.

Gibbs took a sip of Bourbon and felt the burn as the liquid eased down the back of his throat.

His team.

That wasn't going to happen again. Know your enemy. Understand them. Get in their heads. Think like them; use that against them and take them down. Vance had timed his jab to perfection. Gibbs hadn't seen it coming and the blow had stung. Vowing never to let Vance find an inch of an opening, Gibbs had gone on covert attack through the muse of overt defence. Getting into Vance's head had proven difficult but he had his team back and he was making progress. Unfortunately, in order to protect his team he'd had to get even closer to Vance and that had meant he'd had to push his team further away.

It had been a concerted effort to protect himself and his team. As a Marine, Gibbs had experienced situations where his closest buddies had been killed; cruelly snatched from him without a moment's notice. Even knowing the inherent risks of combat, it didn't make those times any easier to live with. Still Gibbs hadn't been able to protect them all.

Flushing out a mole, disbanding his team was the Director's prerogative. But the sly convenience of an agent afloat position miles away from D.C. was just the excuse Vance had needed to wrench Tony off his team. There was no real reason for Tony to be posted afloat. He hadn't chosen McGee for that posting. McGee's talents had been needed elsewhere. Tony's talents could have been utilised on another team... but no, Vance had to post him _alone_ on a ship, with limited personal contact with the outside world. Just what DiNozzo didn't need. Tony needed stimulation. He'd throw himself into something but after a length of time the drudgery and routine stuff bored him, especially when his talents were ignored and he couldn't use them to their optimum potential. When he got bored he became restless, and that was dangerous. Tony was a 'high maintenance' agent.

Abby had been a godsend. Her fervent badgering of him to get the team home had been a smarting reminder to keep his head focused and the end goal in sight - Tony, Tim, Ziva back in their rightful places. Her frequent mail runs had also kept Tony going and Gibbs was grateful, having had to take a back seat. A few personal conversations by satellite phone and the occasional official video conference for work related information had been all he'd allowed himself; purposefully keeping his contact to a minimum. The team leader hadn't wanted to let Vance see how much it bothered him to see Tony being confined that way. He still managed to throw Tony a few words of encouragement when he could. And he'd seen the subtle changes in Tony over the four months he'd been at sea.

That's why he'd backed off when Tony came back. Although the return of McGee and Ziva had been part of Vance's deal when they'd flushed out the mole, DiNozzo's return had been less certain. Vance had held out a little while longer and Gibbs had had to fight – hard. In the end, he'd taken a risk**—**bounced Vance into making a decision**—**and it had worked. To shake DiNozzo's hand and see him sitting officially behind his desk once again; all of his team sitting behind each of their respective desks again – _that_ had brought a lump to his throat.

But then reality set in. Gibbs hadn't liked that hold that Leon had over him and he knew he'd have to play Vance. So he'd backed off all of his field team. Not let himself get as close to any of them as he had done in the past. That had been hard to do; hard for Tony to take too, and it had obviously come to a head in recent weeks.

He'd just been trying to protect them. Protect himself.

But he had to keep them at arm's length. He couldn't afford or allow himself to get as close to his team as he had done in the past. Losing them had been painful and he couldn't lose them again. Vance's threat was always going to be there; he'd said as much. Although Vance had derived a great deal of pleasure from sending Tony off to sea, Gibbs had seen the gloat behind Vance's eyes and knew he'd enjoyed taking the team leader down in the process. Yes, Vance had punished Tony but he'd savoured punishing Gibbs more.

Gibbs couldn't risk losing his team again.

Maybe Tony thought he was bored with him. Maybe he thought he didn't care anymore. That wasn't the case. He just cared too much.

Tony had to be careful. Any excuse and Leon could and would transfer him. Gibbs didn't mind DiNozzo joking around; the odd humour was an essential coping mechanism in the team dynamic. The quip, his own roll of the eyes, the verbal 'can it' and then back to work. It was necessary, relevant, and he'd missed it. The main threat to their daily shot of 'DiNozzo' was Vance. Lately though, Tony always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time – within earshot of Vance. It was becoming dangerous.

That was where Gibbs found himself now. Trying his utmost to protect Tony from Vance and trying desperately to protect himself from losing his team. Again. He didn't want Tony to leave but in his haste to keep his distance, maybe he'd pushed too far.

By ignoring the humour, sounding as though he wasn't interested, not acknowledging the usual Tony-esque behaviour, teasing and by throwing some of it back in his senior field agent's face (he knew Abby wouldn't be able to keep the attitude adjustment comment to herself and he knew Tony had spies that would let him in on the narcissistic comment) he hoped Tony would take the hint. Understand. He had faith that DiNozzo would work it out. Tony always did.

He trusted him. He trusted all of them.

_TBC..._

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** Next chapter... the day of Bounce.


	5. Accusations and misunderstandings

**A/N:** Thanks again for reading, reviewing and for all your support. This chapter takes place the day of Bounce (S6 E16). You really need to have seen that episode in order for the missing scenes in this chapter to make sense. I also took liberties with the number of times Tony has been accused of murder. Hope you enjoy the chapter. SA

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Accusations and misunderstandings**

* * *

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had the hangover from hell. In addition to struggling to keep the after effects of Vance's sanctioned shots in check, Tony was also finding being accused of murder-yet again-difficult to handle. What hadn't helped much either was the fact that the unrelenting pounding in his head had, only moments earlier, been joined by a one-sided verbal sparring session from two of his co-workers.

As he walked slowly away from the rest of the team in the alley behind the hotel, Tony wondered why he thought he expected anything different from them.

This was the third time since joining NCIS that he'd been accused of murder. First he was supposed to have chopped a girl's legs off and dumped them in the park – that was just sick. Then he was supposed to have shot an arms dealer – granted that was more plausible. Now he was supposed to have killed Lieutenant Grady. Tony laughed at the incongruity of it all. He was only ever accused of murder when he was innocent; never when he _was_ guilty, or at least _felt _guilty.

It was becoming a standing joke, and that was dangerous. He was a joke. Earlier he'd needed to head off a jibe from McGee but he hadn't. Couldn't; too drained from the previous night's activities and the worry that someone, somewhere was out to frame him. After the next dig from Ziva he'd had it with them. Gibbs had let him go without comment and Tony had been thankful the Boss knew him well enough not to push his buttons by making him stay at the scene.

He wasn't running away, but he needed _not_ to be near McGee and Officer David. Right now he couldn't trust himself not to snap and end up giving Tim and Ziva a few home truths – Gibbs too. That was something he'd end up regretting, and he had enough regrets to deal with without _that_ added burden.

Slowly, Tony leaned against the wall around the corner from the alley where McBackstabber and Drop-kick David were finishing up processing the scene of his supposed crime. Tony slid his back down the wall until he landed with a bump to sit on the cold harsh concrete. His head was still pounding mercilessly and he took his time reaching into the pocket of his windbreaker to pull out a small white plastic bottle. Empty. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in through his nose and then swallowed as he fought to quell the nausea that threatened to take his dignity from him. He looked like a rookie attending his first murder scene.

Feeling the warmth of another body making contact with his own, Tony opened his eyes and looked to his left as Gibbs sat down on the floor next to him. Hip to hip, blown knee to blown leg.

Tony decided to pre-empt Gibbs's lecture. Not that he deserved one. He hadn't really had much of a choice but to follow Vance's orders. "I know what you're gonna say. That rule about drinking on a school night." Tony sighed and tried to swallow the bile that once again threatened to announce its presence over the ground in front of him. "Won't happen again, Boss."

"Mmm." Gibbs smiled and withdrew a small container of Tylenol from inside of his own pocket and tossed it to Tony.

Flipping the lid Tony palmed two small tablets and dry swallowed them.

"Tony, they know you didn't do this."

Tony looked at Gibbs incredulously. He didn't, for one minute, think that they did.

"Can't expect them not to give you some stick. Not with all the crap you give 'em."

"I know. Just thought..." He paused, hoping for once he might have had a _little_ support from his co-workers. "Never mind."

"You can dish it out too." Gibbs stated firmly, staring into the distance. Tony turned his head to face him and watched as Gibbs licked his lips before continuing, "When I let you."

Tony's mind raced through all the times he'd gone toe to toe with the man; challenging Gibbs to keep a focus; delivering his own version of a metaphorical DiNozzo slap to stop him getting in too deep that he lost sight of what mattered. "Only because you know it's deserved."

"Maybe."

"So what... now you're saying I deserve this? It's not a pep talk, Gibbs. I don't deserve _this_. I never teased McGee when he thought he shot that cop. I never teased Ziva when she made it to the top of the FBIs 'Most Wanted'..."

"No. You didn't. But they've not been accused of murder four times."

"Three actually."

"Four. Forgetting Philly now, DiNozzo?"

"You did your homework," Tony grunted.

"Make it my business to know my people."

Tony looked away.

"My _Boss_ was a stickler for details. Good teacher. Unusual methods. Learned a lot."

"Bet that was painful."

"Quick learner," Gibbs stated, sending Tony a warning glare.

"Too much?" Tony asked, exaggerating a grimace in the process.

"Uh huh."

"You know, Ducky once told me that when you were younger you were a lot like me."

"I was never like you, DiNozzo. You _might_ have been like me when I was your age."

Tony snorted. "Figures."

"Good instincts. Just needed steering in the right direction."

"And some of us need more steering than others?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Nah. We're gonna figure this out, DiNozzo. Trust me." Gibbs didn't know if he was talking about the case, the difficulties between them... or both.

Tony looked away briefly before nodding and bowing his head.

"Go on, there's some water in the car." Gibbs stated, slowly pushing himself up from the floor, his knees cracking in the process. "I'm not stopping for you to hurl on the way back, Tony."

"You made me lean out the window last time."

Gibbs chuckled offering Tony a hand up. "Go on. Five minutes, then I need you back."

Gibbs watched as Tony replaced his sunglasses and standard issue NCIS cap and then started walking in the direction of the car. "Hey! DiNozzo!" He waited until Tony had turned to face him. "Glad you broke it, this time."

"Broke what?"

"That damned rule!"

* * *

Tony had thought his day couldn't have got any worse.

How wrong was he?

Several hours later he had his answer - about as wrong as he'd been three years ago.

As he leaned against the wall outside interrogation waiting for Reny to come out, he cast a thought as to what it would have been like to lose three years of his own life behind bars for something he hadn't done. He came to the 'oh so obvious' conclusion that it would have sucked.

_It would have sucked – big time._

Twenty four hours had been enough to send him slightly crazy back when Chip had tried to frame him. Four months on a floating prison had had him contemplating walking the plank. The only thing that had stopped him was the knowledge that a certain Captain One-Shot Gibbs would have hauled his ass out of the freezing water only to kick it all the way back to Bethesda. Three years in prison for something he hadn't done would have sent him all kinds of crazy. How the hell had Reny survived?

God he owed him. It was a mess. His own mess; and he should clear it up. That's the way it should be. He didn't want anyone else taking the blame for this. _He'd_ been lead on the case. _He'd_ signed off on it. He didn't want anyone else coming in and clearing up after _his_ mistakes – especially not Gibbs. He needed lead on this case, and Gibbs knew he needed it.

It had come as a slight shock when Gibbs _had_ turned the case over to him. But then shock turned into relief. Of course there was rule 38, but he never thought he'd see the day when Gibbs–all round bastard and lead agent on the MCRT–would actually go ahead... give up lead... on an active case. Sure, it was great to be able to direct the investigation on his own terms, but that wasn't the reason he was pleased. Gibbs's Rule 38 might be 'Your case. Your lead', but the DiNozzo translation went something like 'Your screw up. You fix it.' And that was just fine with Tony. Tony had to fix this. Right now, he had to stop dwelling on past screw ups, get on with the job, focus on uncovering the truth... and make things right. Tony needed to find out who set Reny up, and bring them to justice.

* * *

Abby stood at her workstation tapping on her keyboard. Entering parameters for her next search, the scientist wondered whether Tony had been pissed that she'd kept calling him Gibbs - especially after their talk the other night. She'd been too preoccupied earlier at the thought that Gibbs might be leaving to realise the ramifications of what she'd said to Tony. When Tony had mentioned rule 38 she'd been so relieved.

And then she'd felt guilty.

She sucked on the Caf-Pow Tony'd brought for her earlier and put the bandage for Sister Rosita's ankle in her bag. She definitely felt more than a little guilty at the trainee sticker. Sometimes Tony just needed a little push to get him heading in the right direction. Like the other night. Today, though, he'd been one step ahead of her. He was no trainee - although not knowing the constituents of soap _was_ inexcusable. Nope. He wasn't Gibbs - that was for sure. No one came close to the Bossman.

But then no one came close to being Anthony DiNozzo either.

Abby pressed a button on her speakerphone and launched into the beginnings of an apology as soon as it was answered at the other end.

"Tony, I need to talk to you..."

"_Abby. It's McGee."_

"McGee? What are you doing answering Tony's phone?"

"_Well it is open plan up here and he's out - thank God. Probably meeting with Sec Nav right now. You know, Gibbs making him Boss has gone straight to his head. Ordering everyone around like he runs the place. God he's insufferable, Abby. Anyone would think he's..."_

"Leading a case, McGee?"

"_Well yeah, of course he's working a case but..."_

"But what?"

"_Well he doesn't have to be so... so..." _

"Good at it?"

"_Abby... I'm really busy. Tony isn't here. Can I help? What do you want?"_

"Well the answer to your second question kinda answers the first so I'll answer that one first, if that's okay..."

"_Abby..."_

"Two. I wanted to apologise to Tony. One. No you can't help."

"_Why?"_

"Because you're not Tony and I don't need..."

"_No, I meant... why are you apologising to Tony?"_

"Because... because he's not Gibbs."

"_Finally. Someone else who agrees with me. The sooner Tony stops pretending he's this almighty..."_

"Leader... who drinks to alleviate the burden of his messianic complex..."

"_You're quoting my book!"_

"He's not Gibbs. He's never been Gibbs, and I really wish you understood that Tim." Abby paused, "Look, we should forget drinks tonight. You're busy. I've got a back log. Let's go for lunch later in the week."

As the sound of McGee's protestations began to fill her lab, Abby reached out and calmly, but deliberately, pressed the cancel button on the speakerphone before returning to her computer and tweaking her search parameters once more.

* * *

Tony'd seen the smoke as he'd approached the door to Reny's place. Once inside, he'd called in the burnt prime rib and summoned his team. Upon being given the all clear, they'd begun to process the scene. The absence of Reny was disturbing; even more so given that there were obvious signs of a struggle. Then Ziva found the knife. There was no way of knowing whether the blood coating the blade was Reny's; not until they got it back to the lab and Abby worked her magic. Tony hoped to God it wasn't Reny's. Would they get back to the Navy Yard and find Reny dead; dumped in a duffle bag outside the main gate? Tony knew the third embezzler was tying up loose ends, and as Gibbs voiced the exact same thoughts to him and the rest of the team, the knot in Tony's stomach tightened further.

Tony stood, head bowed, one hand either side of the open frame which separated the kitchen from the front room. The strain was beginning to set in. This was not going right. He needed time to think. They were being thwarted at every turn and it was driving him crazy. Reny was missing. Fixing this was imperative, and as Tony looked up to face the team he found Gibbs watching him curiously. Tony wasn't prepared for what Gibbs did next. The man simply smiled and turned away. Gibbs turned away.

_What the hell was that about?_ Tony silently asked himself. Wasn't it enough that he had problems with McGee refusing to acknowledge his authority unless he got an accompanying nod from Gibbs? Now it appeared that Gibbs was revelling in the fact that he was struggling to keep on top of the case. He just wanted to right a wrong. Why the hell couldn't they see that? And why did McGee have to be so intent on pushing his buttons?

Anthony was reaping what Tony had sowed.

_TBC..._

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** A little more Gibbs introspection and his thoughts on Tony and the list in the next chapter.


	6. No smoke without a campfire

**A/N:** This ending of this chapter will make a lot more sense if you've already seen the episode 'Bounce'. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy this chapter. SA

* * *

**Chapter 6 – No smoke without a campfire**

* * *

Gibbs drove the truck back from Reny's place to the Navy Yard whilst Tony took the car. Ziva and McGee exchanged glances as Gibbs's aggressive driving forced several vehicles, including a pick-up, to swerve out of their path. Ignoring the blare of horns and one-fingered salutes he got from other drivers, Gibbs opted instead to scan the highway ahead for DiNozzo.

His temporary _Boss_ already had a thirty second head start thanks to McGee and Ziva arguing over who had to sit on the hump on the way back. Tony was way out in front and Gibbs wanted to catch up. Thankfully McGee and Ziva had wisely kept their mouths shut as soon as his foot had hit the pedal.

Gibbs could just make out the Dodge in the distance and pressed down harder on the gas. The truck lurched forward in response and Gibbs smiled inwardly as he felt McGee grip the side of his seat and eyed Ziva shifting in hers.

Ziva was catching up – fast, but McGee was having a hard time dealing with Tony being lead agent. McGee and DiNozzo had been going through something ever since Tony had come back from the Sea Hawk. The banter between Tony and McGee had begun to get personal. As a result, Gibbs had—on a few occasions—taken to pairing McGee with Ziva instead of Tony. McGee had had a taste of being the boss in cybercrimes and although he was undoubtedly pleased to be working in the field again, you didn't have to be a genius with degrees from MIT and Johns Hopkins to know that McGee missed being in charge of his own squad. Since the whole team had returned to D.C., instead of the respectful cries of 'Morning Boss' from his cybercrime buddies, Tim had had to endure the all-too familiar grate of 'Morning Probie'. McGee was quietly getting more and more pissed each time he heard it. Gibbs had had _that _chat with Tim several years earlier when McGee had snapped back having taken the term as Tony asserting his authority and lauding it over him. Gibbs wasn't blind to the fact that Tony could _and would_ be an ass towards Tim. But in most instances Tony used the term affectionately and there was no malice intended. If_ he_ could still handle Franks calling him Probie after all these years, then McGee should be strong enough to handle DiNozzo. There was no need to repeat the chat. McGee and DiNozzo should be able to work that one out themselves.

In fact, DiNozzo seemed to have put his and McGee's problems to one side; letting Tim have his digs, and for the most part, not letting the snarkiness bother him _too_ much. Personal difficulties and extraneous hurdles had been sidelined in favour of working Reny's case. DiNozzo had kept up the pace and hadn't given up. Not on the case, nor McGee. As a result, Gibbs was momentarily content to let Tony deal with Tim in his own way. However, if McGee didn't buck up soon and accept Tony's lead, then he would press Tony to deal with him formally. Definitely before it really started to interfere with the case and before McGee–in Gibbs's eyes–screwed up big time. If Tim couldn't see that the reason he'd let Tony take the case actually had nothing to do with Tony leading the team, and everything to do with following leads, then he had a big problem.

Tony _needed_ to lead this _case_ - to maintain his own sanity and work out the issues of having not done a thorough job three years ago. DiNozzo could have offered a whole range of excuses. He could have blamed others and yet he hadn't. There had been no mention of Ziva's, McGee's or Lee's role in the investigation. Tony had decided this was his fight, and Gibbs respected that innate honour. Tony had to cover all the bases; had to do this right. The buck had stopped with him three years ago and it needed to be that way again. Seeing the case through from start to finish, directing the investigation and doing all he could to right his wrong was just the start for DiNozzo. It wouldn't work if Gibbs was barking orders at him and the rest of the team. His second had to ride through the consequences of leaving those loose ends untied in the investigation three years ago.

Just like Gibbs himself was doing now - riding the consequences.

Had he really done the right thing, backing off from his team? Had he done more harm than good? DiNozzo had been really pissed at him a few weeks back. Hurt and angry that Gibbs hadn't told him the truth about their mission to catch the mole. In fact, it was the first time Gibbs had thought the guy might even have taken a swing at him. But he knew DiNozzo and his history. Tony was a talker. It got him into trouble on more than a few occasions. But it also got him and them out of trouble on many more. And when Tony needed to hammer home a point—to his friends at least—he did it through a few carefully chosen words and occasionally clenched teeth; rarely clenched fists. Still, the anger that had radiated from his senior field agent that day; heat tempered only by the warning tone in Ducky voice and coolness of Autopsy... well _that_ had set alarm bells ringing in his ears.

If he wasn't careful, he would lose him - lose them all.

Losing them was exactly what he had been trying to avoid in the first place. They were supposed to be a team. The MCRT. They worked cases together and had a pretty decent solve rate; did their jobs. Lately though, it felt like they were all slowly drifting apart. Abby was right. As a team, they rarely went out for drinks anymore.

Professional capability aside, did he really _know_ any of them? When was the last time he made an effort to find out what they did on their down time? He knew what they'd done in the past. McGee wrote novels and was a scout leader, but what else did he do? Ziva practiced various forms of Martial arts. Abby did a lot of charity work, bowled in a league and had her ear splitting music gigs. _Gigs – was that the right word for those things?_ Ducky played Golf. Tony played football. What else did they do?

Would they even tell him if he asked? McGee might. Abby would - she'd try and shock him. But would Tony tell him? Maybe, or perhaps he'd just shrug his questions off with a grin and a smart ass comment and then worry why he was going all soft all of a sudden? No. Gibbs already knew the answer. After all, Tony hadn't told him about the list he'd made - Abby had.

The truth hit Gibbs with the full force of a 9mm slug at point blank range. Maybe, just maybe he really had left it too late to try and fix this.

'_Never too late, Probie.'_

Franks's words brought little comfort, but definite hope. It was hard not to trust his old Boss; the guy who gave him Shannon and Kelly's killer. And even though Franks had made questionable choices in the recent past, Gibbs still called him when he needed someone. Why, though, did he always go it alone with Franks?

Maybe it was because Mike knew so much about his own past. The finer details of what had happened all those years ago. After all, he only called him when it was personal. He went to Franks, not his team. Not Tony, McGee, Ziva or even Abby, although he could confide in Ducky to a certain degree. Was it really because he wanted to protect them? No. They could protect themselves. Did he really trust them? Stupid question - if he didn't, they wouldn't be on his team. The question he ought to be asking himself was 'Did he want them to _know_ _him_?' He was their team lead and as such had always maintained a reasonable distance from them. Would they think less of him if they knew the detail? Could he risk narrowing that gap? Could he afford not to?

It was exactly what he was asking – pushing – Tony to do. Risk opening up to his friends, colleagues, and letting them see more of Anthony. When the opportunity had presented itself earlier that day, Gibbs had taken it. All he'd had to do was take a step back and let DiNozzo step forward. To say it was working was an understatement. Tony was distracted enough by focusing on the case that he was letting Anthony surface. Gibbs had seen how DiNozzo had reacted earlier. Crouching down, showing a little vulnerability in front of his team mates. That had been a make or break time. Then DiNozzo had stood and stepped up to the mark, taken responsibility for the outcome three years ago and then gone straight on to direct the case, and them. He'd openly blamed himself - not the others, showing them he cared that he'd got it wrong. Neither McGee nor Officer David had tried to avert or shift any of the blame off DiNozzo. _Not that Tony would have allowed them to._ So far, DiNozzo had done just fine.

Gibbs could still be disappointed in his two other agents though.

* * *

Tony slowed the car to a stop, waved his ID to the new security guard at the main gate and waited for the barrier to rise.

Did it really matter that he wasn't getting the support he should from McGee? Did he really expect to get support from him? He hadn't before.

'_Temporary team leader. And that was only because Gibbs quit.'_

'_You don't think I rate my own team?'_

'_Wouldn't be here now if you did. Would you, DiNozzo?'_

'_Yeah. Maybe you're right.'_

A corner of his own team was losing confidence, probably never had confidence in him in the first place. That was hard to take, especially after everything they'd been through. Well, leading a team wasn't meant to be easy; he knew that from experience. Why should McGee respect his leadership anyway? Respect had to be earned, didn't it? What had he done to earn McGee's respect? Teased him - mercilessly. Toughened the guy up; made him do stuff he didn't want to do. Forced him to grow a set and stand up to people. Stand up to him.

On the one hand, Tony felt secretly pleased at McGee's growth over the past years. He wasn't the wet behind the ears agent that barfed at the sight of blood or vomit. He knew what Poison Ivy looked like and gave back as good as he got on the banter. McGee had cracked high profile cases using, not only his undeniably superior computer knowledge, but his first class investigative skills. He was more confident in interrogation and had turned into quite the seasoned agent; had run his own team in cyber crimes for four months... and, from what Tony had heard, McGee had quite a fan club down there.

On the other hand, Tony was disappointed in McGee. He hadn't foreseen the attitude that had slowly been pushing its way out of the younger man ever since they'd taken their places once again on Gibbs's team. An attitude that had been directed most forcefully at Tony; he didn't like it.

At times, McGee had displayed a blatant disregard for his authority on this case; showing evidence first to Gibbs instead of himself. And whilst McGee had followed orders, he seemed to do it begrudgingly. That was not a good sign and Tony was beginning to worry that Tim wouldn't be able to give one hundred per cent in the investigation if he was too hung up on who to follow instead of what to follow. McGee was missing the big picture, just like they all had three years ago. Tim really had to work that out for himself. And for that reason, Tony was reluctant to grab McGee, yell and shake some sense into him; tell him to get over it and see the damn thing for what it was. So he backed off.

He was worried that Gibbs might see it at shirking his duties as team lead, but there was nothing he could do about that at the moment. He had a case to work, leads to find and follow up. A wrong to right.

_Case to work. Remember, Anthony. Snap out of it you idiot!_

Where was Gibbs when he needed a hand?

The blare of a horn startled him and Tony looked in the mirror to find Gibbs and the others in the truck to his rear.

"Sir, are you okay?" the guard at the gate enquired.

Tony gave his usual, and well rehearsed, lie in response before driving through the gate, parking the car and making his way to the evidence garage where he knew the others would be heading.

* * *

Meeting outside the elevator, Ziva had informed Tony and the team that Abby was already running tests on the blood from the knife and was logging in photos from the scene. The forensic specialist would let them know as soon as she had anything. As they piled into the elevator, Gibbs watched a focused, alert but silent Tony press the button for the squad room. He was thinking hard, running through options and possible scenarios. It was a far cry from the immature, sexist, talkative, selfish person Tony described in his list.

Of course, there were lots of times when he did display those characteristics. Whilst Tony did have a knack of knowing just how far to push Gibbs, Vance unfortunately didn't share the same threshold for his agent's antics; tolerating DiNozzo only because of his record with the agency. The worrying question Gibbs had been pondering lately though was '_how much longer would DiNozzo's–or his–record with the agency matter?'_

In this new era, law enforcement was changing. With an ever increasing emphasis being placed on high end technology and computer wizardry, it was not surprising that those skills ranked high on the list of desirable attributes for potential new recruits to agencies such as NCIS. Tony knew enough about technology and computers that he could use them deftly, but he wasn't like Abby or McGee. He couldn't write a computer search programme or develop some algorithm to decipher X from Y – the things that Director Vance noticed. He didn't have that kind of knowledge, training or expertise. Tony'd always known that he'd have to come up with ideas; think; use his head, make other connections. And Gibbs had pushed him hard. Not always because Tony needed it; but because his second had demanded it.

All the team could be immature, selfish and irritate the hell out of Gibbs from time to time. Tony, however, had taken _immaturity_ to the next level and perfected its use for several different goals. To the untrained eye—or those who just didn't care to notice—_attention seeking_ was by far the most usual phrase attributed to a DiNozzo in full _immature_ mode. To those with a trained eye, or those who _chose_ to care, like Gibbs or Abby, Tony's instances of immaturity could also be likened to a carefully selected distraction technique. Gibbs had seen DiNozzo use the method in interrogation; lulling suspects into a false sense of security and superiority. By the time they'd caught on to what he'd done it was too late and they were in too deep. Tony had the innate ability to read people, blend in – and stand out.

They'd all been the recipients of Tony's 'distraction' method at one point or another - McGee, Kate, Ziva, Abby... him too.

When Paula's team had been killed and the tension between Paula and Ziva had hit new heights, Tony had tried –some might say 'insensitively'– to lighten the mood with a joke. When Kate had been killed and Gibbs had been off kilter; too absorbed in feelings of self-recrimination and grief, Tony had been there – goading him, driving him nuts. Ultimately offering up the back of his own head as a safe place on which Gibbs could refocus his pain.

A distraction.

DiNozzo put himself up as a distraction on a regular basis. It was a thankless task; an essential function that only his senior field agent recognised and only his senior field agent could fulfil.

Gibbs hated himself for acting on it.

Tony had been there; cared – in his own way. Who supported Tony?

People probably didn't believe anything was wrong because usually Tony wouldn't let them see anything was wrong. DiNozzo needed to show them. Let them see that he cared; he hurt; he got angry; bled, just like the rest of them. To do that he had to stop pretending everything was fine and stop always shrugging things off with a gag and a smile. Everyone needed a little help at times. Gibbs had to admit he'd checked in with Franks and Ducky on more than one occasion. Asking for help took courage, and it wasn't like his second didn't have an abundance of the stuff. Standing toe to toe in front of your boss telling them what they didn't want to hear—but needed to hear—took courage. Admitting to your whole team that you'd made a mistake and were taking responsibility for it took courage. Throwing yourself into the freezing depths of the Potomac took courage. Asking for help though - that took a different kind of courage.

Gibbs stood at the back of the elevator, watching as the younger man ran a hand through his hair.

_Ask for help, Anthony._

The silent plea from Gibbs was matched in force by the palpable tension in the elevator as it continued to carry them, McGee and Ziva included, up towards the bullpen.

DiNozzo had led the team as they'd come up with theories, worked angles, checked information and followed leads. He'd worked his ass off. The team had worked hard. Tony'd worked them hard, and although the strain was beginning to show, he'd still not given up. Exiting the elevator, Gibbs and the team hastily followed Tony and returned to their desks.

DiNozzo had told him to co-ordinate with highway patrol. Gibbs had begun to do just that, keeping one ear on Tony's instructions to the rest of the team and noticing the tension in his tone of voice. Ziva had responded that there was nothing on the traffic cams and Tony had just asked her to widen the search.

_Well that was a waste of resources_.

Ziva's mouth echoed Gibbs's thoughts, telling Tony, in no uncertain terms, what he already knew.

_Crap._

Now Tony had just yelled at Ziva. He wasn't thinking; his frustration plainly evident.

_Enough. _

Gibbs selected his next words carefully and delivered them with a calm, controlled voice.

"DiNozzo."

"What?!"

"Campfire."

At the opposite side of the squad room, DiNozzo immediately regretted raising his voice. Unfortunately it was too late to do anything about it as he watched Gibbs sail past his desk heading away from their usual 'office'.

_Great. So this was it,_ he thought as he removed his coat with such force that he almost ripped the seams. Hell, he'd been wondering how long it would be before this moment came... the moment that Gibbs fired him. The moment he failed his mentor; disappointed himself. He knew he'd screwed up. Reny was probably dead thanks to him. No excuses. He'd failed Reny and he'd failed Gibbs.

He just wished he could wipe the smirk from McGee's smug little face. Unfortunately that wasn't an option right now. Especially given that Gibbs was about to tear him a new one; pull the rug from under his feet, and take back his rightful place as lead in the process. Well he could still get fired in style, and with a tug of his suit jacket and a thunderous look at McGee, DiNozzo walked out of the squad room to follow Gibbs.

_TBC..._

* * *

**A/N:** Coming up in the final chapter... Gibbs and Tony break a rule, reach an understanding and finally get some things sorted out.


	7. Notes and noticing

**A/N:** Thanks to CSIGeekFan, Will and Obsessed Pam for reading through everything for me. Also, I know it was quite a while ago now, but a huge thanks to mirajo for sparing the time and having the patience to indulge my Tony/Anthony obsession. Thanks again to everyone for reading and for all your comments. Hope you enjoy the final chapter. SA

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Notes and noticing**

* * *

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had just finished reading through his team's reports. Each member had dutifully completed his or her account of the investigation and one-by-one the reports had appeared on his desk before McGee and Ziva had headed out for the evening. Although DiNozzo had handed the Boss's baton back to Gibbs outside the airport, they had agreed that DiNozzo would sign off on the reports before they got passed up the chain. He'd just read Gibbs' report, somewhat surprised that the man hadn't waited until DiNozzo had got back from the head before leaving; he'd hoped to have had a quick word. DiNozzo closed the file and placed it on top of McGee's and Ziva's before adding his own report to the pile.

It had been a landmark day for him. Knowing he wasn't infallible; that he'd screwed up was nothing new. Admitting it—out loud—to his whole team, Gibbs included; that was new. And although the case hadn't been closed exactly as he would have liked, the day had ended much better than he thought it ever could.

He owed Abby big time.

If someone had told him earlier that if he just 'stopped craving' or 'searching' for something that it would find him, he wouldn't have believed them. But he was older, wiser now – still Anthony D DiNozzo, just with a few of the rough edges knocked off. Still sporting a mask (a mask that proved invaluable undercover) but a mask that was not as impenetrable as before – because that was the way he wanted it. It was the way it had to be. There was no going back. The old Tony DiNozzo had resigned, and in his place stood the person that had always been there but seldom seen - Anthony. This new Tony deserved a chance and Gibbs had given him–Anthony–that chance from the first day they'd met. Gibbs had seen Anthony back then; known Anthony was in him. Today, he'd acknowledged Anthony. Given him the recognition he'd been searching for all his life; someone to say that _he_ was making them proud. That Gibbs had been the one to say it, made it all the more poignant. He honestly hadn't expected ever to hear it, having resigned himself to the fact that he would never get that kind of recognition. He'd stopped searching.

And then – those words.

'_Making it right... and me proud.'_

There was more behind those words than Reny's case.

'_Boss... I...'_

'_Not your fault.'_

'_We both know I screwed up.'_

'_Yeah. Three years ago.' _

'_You've been doing a hell of a job, Anthony.'_

'_Anthony.'_

Tony placed the reports in the filing cabinet behind his desk and locked it. He'd send the reports to Vance in the morning. _Vance, not Jenny, _he thought. Powering down his computer he opened his left hand drawer intending to grab his Sig but a slight rustling caught his attention. Recognising the off white paper immediately—he was going to kill Abby—Tony grabbed the crumpled A4 sheet and headed over to the shredder. Scary as it was, old Tony was going to be shredded into tiny little pieces and new Tony was going to enjoy doing it.

The sheet wouldn't go in, and as Tony smoothed and straightened the edges he noticed the additional writing on the opposite side. He'd recognise that scrawl anywhere. Over the past eight years, his desk had been littered with hastily scribbled notes in the exact same handwriting.

As he read the words, Tony fought hard to swallow the lump that began to form at the back of his throat.

.

_**Anthony's Strengths**_

.

_**Honor**_

_**Courage**_

_**Commitment**_

.

_**PS - Basement 21:00. Bring Bourbon. Boat's covered.**_

.

* * *

Forty minutes later, after a brief detour via his own apartment, DiNozzo stood leaning in the doorway at the top of stairs that led down to Gibbs's basement. Bourbon clutched in left hand; paper in right, Tony surveyed the scene below.

Gibbs was studying plans and checking measurements, bent over the bench at the side of the room. Without warning, his boss grabbed an old mug and a glass jar, tipping both their contents out and onto the bench. Gibbs sighed impatiently before swivelling around, folding his arms, leaning back against the bench and looking up in his direction.

"Gonna stand there all night, DiNozzo?"

They both quirked a smile.

Tony slowly made his way down the wooden steps—examining each in close detail—until he reached the sawdust-coated basement floor. Walking over to the bench, Tony held out the bottle of Bourbon to Gibbs.

"Thanks... for noticing, Boss."

Both men stood together, wanting to say more but neither doing so, trapped in their usual rule of choice - silent understanding. Talking wasn't allowed. It wasn't what they did. Except that Gibbs decided to break the unspoken rule.

"Ack, DiNozzo. You did good," Gibbs sighed, taking the bottle from Tony.

"McGee hates me," Tony stated matter of fact and tucking the sheet of paper into his pants pocket.

"He'll get over it." Gibbs stiffened. "Or he'll answer to me."

"No."

"No?" he queried; Tony's firm response having amused him.

"Leave it. Back off."

Gibbs poured two generous measures of Bourbon and handed the glass jar to Tony.

"Why?"

"I want..." Tony paused, gently sloshing the liquid around in the jar. "Let McGee figure it out himself. He's intelligent. Way smarter than me. And let's be honest—while I'm in such a rare and willing state of frank openness—what you did, the way you did it... it was very effective at getting me to pull my head out of my ass... see the big picture. If it worked with me, it'll work with McGee. Believe me, Boss. It's _very_ effective."

"Also a bitch to keep up, Tony."

It was as close to an apology as he was likely to get.

"He'll forgive." Green eyes met blue. "In any case, McGee's a quick learner."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and took a sip of Bourbon.

"If it interferes with a case, then I'll deal with it. I'll speak to him," Tony replied, meeting Gibbs's silent question head on.

"Good. Because if you don't..."

"_You_ will. Leadership. I know."

"McGee won't be the only one I _talk_ to, Tony."

Tony didn't say anything, just nodded his understanding. Gibbs knew there was more to come. Seconds turned into a minute, but Gibbs waited. Tony took a swig of Bourbon and then downed the rest of his drink. Placing the empty jar on the bench next to Gibbs, Tony walked the short distance to Gibbs's boat and began to run his fingers over the smooth hull.

Gibbs matched him, letting the remains of his own drink slip down into the pit of his stomach before pouring two more measures – holding back slightly on Tony's.

"This was never about proving yourself as team lead, DiNozzo. Not to me. Not to anyone." Gibbs took a step forward closing the space between the two of them. "If you'd wanted a team, you would've taken Rota."

"Guess so."

"Guess? Thought I'd smacked that out of you."

Tony snorted, shooting a genuine smile in Gibbs's direction, but refusing the jar that Gibbs offered. He'd had other concerns back then; other excuses for why he didn't want to take the job. Tony waited, watching as Gibbs sighed and set the Bourbon back down on the bench.

"It was about sorting out things in here." Gibbs raised two fingers and tapped his own left temple twice. "Reny's case. Important stuff. Making it right. _Showing_ people things they missed. Things they never even thought to look for. Finding out what's hidden... underneath."

"You're not exactly a top model for 'essence of openness' yourself, Gibbs."

"Nope. But I'm not you, Tony. And you're not me – whatever Ducky says. You don't wanna be me. If it helps, I don't think you're gonna turn into a..."

"Bourbon swigging, Marine-crossed-fed who builds boats in his basement," Tony smirked. "That's a given. My apartment's on the third floor; I hate woodwork, and although I have been known to drink the occasional _jar_ of Bourbon, there's one other tiny little flaw. I'm not a Marine."

"Read the list?"

Tony swallowed. "Gibbs."

"Read it again." Gibbs gestured to Tony's right pants pocket.

Tony resisted the urge to grab and read the paper he'd stuffed in there earlier. "Don't need to," he stated, knowing full well the Marine core values when he saw them.

"Meant it."

"I know."

"Tony. Your list... good start. Need to work at it. Not gonna be easy."

"Yeah, like this past year's been a picnic, Gibbs," Tony snapped, before dropping his gaze briefly back to the boat. "I'm trying."

"You can try harder."

"So can you," Tony rebuked sharply, challenging Gibbs to disagree.

Another minute of silence passed before Tony shifted his stance, reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a carefully folded red patterned tie. After turning it over in his hands twice, Tony thrust it towards Gibbs. "Franks left it with me. Thought you might need it sometime."

Gibbs studied Tony's offering. "Keep it, Tony."

"Gibbs," Tony fudged, "It's not really my colour, ya know. I mean... red and green—"

"Keep it," Gibbs stated firmly, pushing both Tony's hand and the tie away. "If I need it, I'll come collect."

"You mean that?"

"Damn it, DiNozzo!"

"Keeping it, Boss," Tony shot back with a smile, raising both hands and tie in mock defence.

Satisfied that an understanding had been reached, both men returned to their unspoken rule of silent understanding. Gibbs would try to confide more in Tony, and Tony would continue to try and show people more of Anthony.

Tony wandered around the basement, fidgeting with tools and running his hands over the upturned hull of the boat, before returning to the side bench where Gibbs had begun to focus on plans and measurements. Finally, Tony couldn't stand it any longer and broke the silence. "I gotta ask. What d'ya think of my lists?"

"Doesn't matter what I think," Gibbs answered. "You're moving on."

"Matters to me."

Gibbs took a sip of Dutch courage. He owed Tony his thoughts. "Must've been hard to write."

"Nope. Writing was easy, once I'd taken the plunge. Stomaching it... that was hard. You're avoiding the question, Gibbs."

Gibbs's expression revealed the inner struggle as he searched for the appropriate words. "Honestly..."

"Honest would be nice. Not that I _like_ you nice or anything."

Gibbs turned to face Tony. "I thought..."

"You thought narcissistic, arrogant, self-obsessed, _irreplaceable_, strutting peacock slash SOB who just got one hell of an attitude adjustment?"

Gibbs smiled. "Knew you'd swim."

The End.

* * *


End file.
